It seems like the journey would never have an end. the night sky outside the window of the running bus, has always been the favourite part of any of my journeys. a drizzle and a hidden moon beyond, could have extended its beauty to zenith. however, that happens in April in the northeast, and not in Vellore. Well, I should keep that in mind. Travelling alone has its own advantages; you don't have to share your chips nor chocolates. but the disadvantages are terrible. You cannot sleep. You have to pay for everything(!), sit beside a probably stinking man! You have no one to talk to, or fight with(ahem); that kills a person as talkative as i am! but then, let's be neutral. though Rihanna kills me and my smile which i try to frame on my face, but this time florida saved me.a sign of relief. now thinking of the journey, one thing i am pretty sure of is : i am going to miss Bangalore terribly this time.the terrible, horrible and torturing colonoscopy did try its best to kill me, but missed it by some traces. The late night drive till the early morning hours, through the amazing roads (the ones bengluru should be proud of) was awesome. Here, i was a little confused about a girl i happened to meet.
we were just acquaintances until this trip had happened. smile was the inseparable part of her. For every and no reason she had one thing to do; smile. she danced to the silliest songs played in the car, dashing every other person sitting next to her. then comes the giggles. she loved being the pup who peeped out the window, scream at the dog and hid herself again. she was...
“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye.” -Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre.
well, there are the few words i do believe. no matter how deep you are shielded; there is one window left open. There was a shadow behind the sparkle of her eyes. behind the serenade, was a deep silence.
that was a long drive along the deserted road. the street lights flashed at the sudden smirk. i realised that she was drifted away from her senses. i could smell spirit. quite an aroma! the storm of her babble abated. and that was quite noticable.
she went to a huff. we were in the same car. she dialed some numbers and disconnected. this happened for sometime. a heavy deep breath. the next moment i could hear her speak, she smiled. she cried. but the cold froze her tears. she closed her eyes.
it was morning, and i could never know what was behind that shadow. and now, when she is nowhere around, her eyes still haunt me. but what i miss the most is, the unreasonable smile.
we were just acquaintances until this trip had happened. smile was the inseparable part of her. For every and no reason she had one thing to do; smile. she danced to the silliest songs played in the car, dashing every other person sitting next to her. then comes the giggles. she loved being the pup who peeped out the window, scream at the dog and hid herself again. she was...
“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye.” -Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre.
well, there are the few words i do believe. no matter how deep you are shielded; there is one window left open. There was a shadow behind the sparkle of her eyes. behind the serenade, was a deep silence.
that was a long drive along the deserted road. the street lights flashed at the sudden smirk. i realised that she was drifted away from her senses. i could smell spirit. quite an aroma! the storm of her babble abated. and that was quite noticable.
she went to a huff. we were in the same car. she dialed some numbers and disconnected. this happened for sometime. a heavy deep breath. the next moment i could hear her speak, she smiled. she cried. but the cold froze her tears. she closed her eyes.
it was morning, and i could never know what was behind that shadow. and now, when she is nowhere around, her eyes still haunt me. but what i miss the most is, the unreasonable smile.
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